French Kiss (1995)

Usually, romantic comedies are not really taken seriously as they tend to be seen as simple and formulaic fluff meant only to provide light hearted entertainment. Like in action films and horror films, the overuse of the enormous amount of clichés and typical plot devices, has turned the sub-genre into a formula where stories are predictable and the twists glaringly obvious, and all because the genre's basic structure has been done countless times before. While this predictability is definitely a problem, occasionally a movie appears that despite once again following the exact typical pattern of the genre, manages to stand out among the rest; and even when at its core it still is a typical romantic comedy, it shines with a light of its own due to some special magic that could only be described as "charm". "French Kiss" is one of those movies, a film that despite being no masterpiece of cinema, achieves its original purpose without problem: to provide good light hearted entertainment by telling a charming story about two equally charming characters.

"French Kiss" is the story of Kate (Meg Ryan), a young woman who after moving to Canada, where his boyfriend Charlie (Timothy Hutton) lives, begins to make preparations for her future life next to him. However, all her plans crumble when on a business trip to France, Charlie meets another woman, Juliette (Susan Anbeh), and falls deeply in love with her, to the point that he decides to remain in France and cancel his wedding plans with Kate. Deeply hurt by Charlie's decision, Kate decides to overcome her terrible fear of flying and travels to France, decided to recover her boyfriend and continue with her life plan. On the trip she is seated next to Luc Teyssier (Kevin Kline), a somewhat rude yet charming Frenchman with whom she engages in a conversation. This will only be the beginning of her adventure with Luc as the odd Bon Vivant she has met has hidden a stolen piece of jewelry in her purse to get it past customs, and now he wants it back. Problems begin when Kate's purse is stolen, forcing both to work together to recover the stolen purse, and its contents.

Written by Adam Brooks, "French Kiss" certainly follows the basic blueprint of romantic comedies: it chronicles the misadventures of a couple that initially dislikes each other but that after being forced to spend time together begins to discover the growth of a certain attraction between them. At first sight it would seem that it's just another typical romantic comedy (one with the welcomed benefit of a romantic French setting); however, and despite its far fetched plot, writer Brooks makes the story fresh and even believable, and it all surprisingly works in the end. While the romance between two different and apparently incompatible people is the main focus of the film, Brooks also makes some cleverly written scenes playing with the stereotypes French and American people have of each other in small, yet very funny scenes that make one fall in love with his assortment of quirky supporting characters. "French Kiss" is not exactly the definition of realistic, but in the end is this romanticizing of the story what becomes the film's main strength.

Director Lawrence Kasdan takes a straight forward approach to the script, and lets the natural charm of his cast to be the driving force of the film. It is really his work with the actors what makes the story come to life, as he manages to get them to break their archetypal characters and make them more natural and human, resulting in a film a bit more believable and natural than what the script (formulaic as it is) made it to be. Certainly, Kasdan still can't avoid the use of some silly and definitely unrealistic dialogs, but the performances of his cast make everything work to an extent. The real star of the film is Owen Roizman's cinematography, who under Kasdan's direction portrays France's both urban and countryside landscapes with great talent, making the amazing beauty of the country to show off in many scenes. Following Brook's running theme of making jokes about American tourists, Kasdan constructs some visual gags that spice up the love story between Kate and Luc, add some diversity and keep things up and running.

The cast is what really makes "French Kiss" to stand out among similar movies. At the peak of her "romantic comedy phase", Meg Ryan was delightfully charming as the main character, Kate. With her natural charm and talent, this character was definitely piece of cake for her, and she makes what otherwise could be a two dimensional character a bit more enjoyable. Kevin Kline is the highlight of the film, making a very convincing Frenchman in his portrait of Luc. It's kind of a shame that the producers decided to hire a non-Frenchman for the role, but fortunately Kline delivers an excellent performance as the witty crook (while his accent isn't really good, his natural acting made that irrelevant). Timothy Hutton is definitely the weakest link in the cast, as not only his character was badly written, his performance is not really good and looks really out of place in the film. French actors Jean Reno and François Cluzet have small supporting roles, but they truly make the best out of them, with Cluzet showcasing great talent for comedy and Jean Reno completely stealing every scene he is in.

As written above, the script is plagued with a good share of flaws, and while some are somewhat corrected by the work of Lawrence Kasdan and his cast, there are details that do hurt the film. Like many romantic comedies, "French Kiss" is based on a far fetched situation (perhaps even more so than others), but the problem is not how unlikely is the situation that makes the couple meet, but in the poor initial setting of the story's events. With the probable exception of Luc, the rest of the characters begin underdeveloped, and their personalities and actions feel initially a tad random. Hutton's character is simply badly done and never believable in his choices (a problem, considering that his actions set the plot in motion). Ryan's characters is slightly better conceived, but it does take Meg Ryan's performance to make her real and likable, as Kate is not exactly a sympathetic character to begin with. Don't get me wrong, the story is charming, but it's truly lousy beginning makes obvious that what happens before the trip was written just to justify Kate's going to France.

Light-hearted and charming, "French Kiss" is a very 90s romantic comedy with certain touches of those classic screwball comedies of old, where realism was sent to the backseat and the mix of comedy and romance used to drive the story. The pairing of Ryan and Kline works wonders and achieve moments of genuine fun. While far fetched and formulaic, Kasdan plays the right notes and what results is a major example of how to fully exploit the main themes of the romantic comedy, and create an entertaining film that manages to make those themes to feel fresh and new again. Ultimately "French Kiss" may be far from a masterpiece of the genre, like say "Annie Hall" or "When Harry met Sally" are, but "French Kiss" gets the job done thanks to the charming performances of the cast, and the magic of the French landscapes.

7/10
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Those Awful Hats (1909)

While often considered as one of the most (if not "THE" most) influential filmmakers of all time, American director David Wark Griffith started his career on film in 1908 in a very humble way: as an actor in short films under the orders of film pioneer Edwin S. Porter, at the time head of Edison's Film Studio. Griffith's luck would change soon, as that very same year he was offered the chance to direct shorts for the American Mutoscope and Biograph Company. Biograph's main director Wallace McCutcheon fell ill and soon there was the need to find a replacement. Griffith took the job and it was there where he truly fell in love with cinema. In less than a year, Griffith mastered the craft, soon becoming acquainted with medium's many tricks and techniques. 1908's short film "The Adventures of Dollie" was the first amongst his many hits. It wouldn't take him too long to start directing short films of excellent quality, a path that would culminate with the making of his first feature length masterpiece, 1915's movie "The Birth of a Nation".

One of the movies where the young Griffith began to show that mastery he had acquired so quickly was the short film "Those Awful Hats", a 2 and a half minutes movie done with the purpose of being a theatrical public service announcement (probably amongst the first of its kind) to be projected before the movies. In "Those Awful Hats", the action takes place during a typical screening in the nickelodeons of cinema's early years. The audience is enjoying a movie when suddenly, an arrogant gentleman (Mack Sennett) with a top hat enters the room and tries to find a seat for him and her companion. Loud and impolite, the man bothers the public constantly, making impossible to enjoy the show; however, this is not the audiences' main problem, as a group of ladies takes a seat and refuses to remove their big and ludicrous hats, an action that alienates even more the audience. Fortunately, the theater has an interesting and quite effective device to remove such undesirable elements: a giant steel bucket. And fortunately, it also removes undesirable people!.

Ordered by the heads of Biograph to conceive a short movie to tell the females among the audience to please remove their bothersome hats while attending a screening, D.W. Griffith wrote and directed this very creative announcement that is both funny and informative at the same time. Making fun of the big hats that were fashionable in those years, Griffith put on film what many audiences have desired to have at least once, a machine created to remove the troublesome persons among the audience. Using a mixture of special effects techniques (mainly the Dunning-Pomeroy Matte process), Griffith created a film that shows a very early use of the technique that decades later would evolve into the green-screen technique. Not only he managed to put a film within a film, but also created an extremely good effect of a steel bucket pulling out stuff (and persons!) from the audience. Griffith showcases an inventive use of special effects, and also an ability at getting the very natural performances from his cast, as their reactions are believable and the use of slapstick very appropriate.

The gag is simple, but very effective, and it constituted one of the earliest examples of a public announcement devised to be shown before the feature films (a concept still used today in most theaters). While not exactly on the level of many of his better known masterpieces, "Those Awful Hats" is a very funny and historically important short movie that can give us an idea of how was cinema in the past, and how it seems that we as audience haven't changed that much in more than a century of film-making. It is also a testament of the how Griffith was always willing to experiment as all as of the mastery he had achieved in only a year making movies. Despite its short length, "Those Awful Hats" is definitely one of the most enjoyable Griffith shorts, as it shows that the director of Biograph's many drama and adventure films was also able to laugh.

7/10

El Gran Calavera (1949)

During the last half of the 40s, filmmaker Luis Buñuel was facing difficult times. In exile from Spain after the Civil War, blacklisted in Hollywood because of his communist leanings, and on top of that a box office bomb (1947's "Gran Casino") as his debut in Mexican cinema; future seemed bleak for the surrealist director. The promising artist behind those innovative surreal ventures of the 30s was now, almost twenty years later, broke and unable to find a job. Once again, it would be producer Oscar Dancigers (producer of "Gran Casino") who would help Buñuel to get back on track. Dancigers and legendary Mexican actor Fernando Soler were planning an adaptation of Adolfo Torrado's popular play "El Gran Calavera" ("The Great Madcap"), with Soler acting and directing the film. However, Soler felt that handling both jobs was going to be difficult, so he asked Dancigers to find a director: "anyone". Dancigers called Buñuel and introduced him to a man whom would become one of his closest friends and collaborators: writer Luis Alcoriza.

"El Gran Calavera" tells the story of Ramiro de la Mata (Fernando Soler), a rich widower in a perpetual state of drunkenness, whose alcoholic ventures often end up with him being unable of remembering what has happened. The state of near unconsciousness in which he spends most of his time has allowed Ramiro's family to exploit him and making him finance everything they want. Ramiro's offspring Eduardo and Virginia (Gustavo Rojo and Rosario Granados), his older brother Ladislao (Andrés Soler) and also Ladislao's hypochondriac wife Milagros (Rosario Granados), are all literally parasites exploiting Ramiro to the point that his company approaches bankruptcy. This prompts Ramiro's younger brother Gregorio (Francisco Jambrina) to take action and conceives a plan to bring Ramiro back to sobriety: his family will pretend to have been driven to poverty due to his alcoholism. Facing the threat of bankruptcy and the idea of having their lifestyle finished, Ramiro's family decides to go along with Gregorio's plan, but a change of events will soon make them face real poverty.

Adapted to the screen by Luis Alcoriza and his wife Janet, "El Gran Calavera" is a quite light-hearted comedy of manners that even when apparently harmless, it does contain its fair share of social criticism hidden behind the laughs. With the contrast between social classes as the background for most of the comedy, it's easy to label "El Gran Calavera" as a fierce social criticism towards the bourgeoisie (specially since Buñuel is involved); however, the Alcorizas' storyline is more a criticism towards laziness and ignorance (and alcoholism while we are at it) than anything else. Certainly the rich bourgeoisie end up the worst, with Ramiro's family being spoiled and lazy but, the poor are also far from being noble. The real nobility, according to "El Gran Calavera", ultimately comes from the mix of knowledge and hard work, represented by poor yet hardworking Pablo (Rubén Rojo), Ramiro's brother Gregorio (a wise psychologist), and by Ramiro himself, whom we discover was a skilled businessman and successful self-made man before turning to alcohol.

While once again working as a hired gun, Buñuel certainly must have found the subject closer to his sensibilities than his previous venture with Dancigers in "Gran Casino". The conflicts between social classes found in "El Gran Calavera" and the dissection it does of both the wealthy and the poor (light-hearted perhaps, but still sharp) are themes that Buñuel had been exploring since the 30s, and so this time he plays them for comedic purpose with good results. Toning down the surrealism (but never really abandon it, as the first and last scenes will show) and with a more urban style, Buñuel finally makes his more complete fictional film since his 1929 debut, "Un Chien Andalou" (though considerably less influential). Later Buñuel commented that his understanding of what he calls "normal cinema" was developed while shooting "El Gran Calavera". If we take "normal cinema" as "conventional narrative cinema" then yes, it does show him with greater domain of the craft, and finally able of making the movie his own without betraying neither himself nor the story.

Acting through the film is of great quality, as while the genre and style call the cast for overacting, it never really feels exaggerated, and fits naturally within the near satirical tone Buñuel gives to the story. Naturally, it's mainly Fernando Soler's show, and he truly makes the most of it. As Ramiro, Soler goes from bumbling drunken buffoon, to a wisecracking Groucho-like wit, and then to the strong patriarchal figure that made him an icon in Mexican cinema. As Ramiro's brother Ladislao, Fernando's real life brother Andres Soler delivers a solid performance, and along Maruja Grifell (who plays his wife Milagros), are the comedic highlight of the film, both being appropriately hammy and explosively over-the-top. The younger cast is not as lucky, but for the most part they make a good job. Gustavo Rojo plays another over-the-top character, Ramiro's son Eduardo, but unlike Grifell and Soler, he is more annoying than funny. Finally, Rosario Granados as Virginia and Rubén Rojo as Pablo are the romantic couple of the film, and while effective, at times they lack passion as a couple.

Buñuel's second venture in Mexican cinema is certainly a more successful one than his previous "Gran Casino". For starters, the Alcorizas' story is better built and has a lot more energy, with every character receiving enough time to get to like them. True, they are initially a bunch of typical stereotypes in a typical fish-out-of-water scenario, but the way the story unfolds (and Buñuel's directing of his cast) make them fresh and new again, almost realistic and natural. On the down side, despite the film's charm, it can't avoid some of its problems. Some actors do feel at times too theatrical, and overall the overacting style used in the film may not be everyone's cup of tea. Also, Ezequiel Carrasco's work as cinematographer is good but clearly uninspired, a shame since the story goes to different settings (from Ramiro's mansion to the miserable apartment building he takes his family) that could had been enhanced with a better work. In general, the film's production values are clearly lower than in "Gran Casino" but, to his credit, Buñuel makes the most out of them, relays on his cast and overall builds up a better film.

Certainly, "El Gran Calavera" is nowhere near the work Buñuel would make later so, it would be easy to dismiss it as a light-hearted comedy done for hire and of interest for Buñuel's fans only; however, despite its many shortcomings, "El Gran Calavera" truly has a certain magic and special charm that make it a quite enjoyable story to watch y its own means. Closer to Buñuel's idiosyncrasies, "El Gran Calavera" is a return to the social criticism that Buñuel loved in his films, although here we have him making of Ramiro an oddly sympathetic portrait of a member of the bourgeoisie. The film became a huge success when released, and helped Buñuel to build a good reputation as a responsible and hard-working director, able to work efficiently with limited resources. It would be thanks to this success that Buñuel became finally able to make a film of his own choice. And his choice would be to make what's now considered amongst the best Mexican films of all time: "Los Olvidados".

7/10
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Gran Casino (Tampico) (1947)

The political climate in continental Europe during the 30s was quite convoluted and the rise of Nazism in Germany and the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War meant the exile for many of its inhabitants. Amongst them was Spaniard filmmaker Luis Buñuel, who moved to the U.S. and found a job in the dubbing department of Warner Brothers. Blacklisted for his communist ties and unsatisfied with his job, Buñuel accepted an invitation by old friend Denise Tual, to direct a film for her husband, producer Roland Tual, in Mexico. Thanks to Tual, Buñuel met French producer Oscar Dancigers, another refugee who had escaped from World War II in 1939. Dancigers had established in Mexico an independent film production company that found some success during World War II. Tual's project was canceled but Dancigers wanted to work with Buñuel, so he offered him a job directing a musical film with two of Mexico's most popular stars: Mexican singer Jorge Negrete and Argentinian singer Libertad Lamarque. "Gran Casino" was the film that inaugurated Buñuel's Mexican period.

Also known as "Tampico" (the place the film is set), the movie is set in the early years of the twentieth century and tells the story of friends Gerardo (Jorge Negrete) and Demetrio (Julio Villarreal), two prison cell-mates who after escaping from prison, find job in an oil company owned by Argentinian José Enrique Irigoyen (Francisco Jambrina). Irigoyen is an idealistic entrepreneur, but his plans go against those of Heriberto (Agustín Isunza), local gangster and owner of the Grand Casino of the title. Heriberto kidnaps and murders Irigoyen, but the two friends decide to not let Irigoyen down and stand aside his benefactor's ideas, keeping things going at the oil company. Things get more complicated when Irigoyen's sister Mercedes (Libertad Lamarque) arrives and suspects that Gerardo and Demetrio are involved in her brother's disappearance. Her investigation takes her to get a job at the Grand Casino while Demetrio disappears as well. It'll be up to Gerardo to discover the truth and win Mercedes' heart. And sing a variety of tunes while he's at it, or course.

Taking Michel Weber's novel "El Rugido del Paraíso" ("The Roar of Paradise") as basis, the screenplay was written by Mauricio Magdaleno, who had already penned several quite popular Mexican films. By all accounts, "Gran Casino" is pretty much a basic musical melodrama in the style that had been popular in Mexico since 1936's classic "Allá en el Rancho Grande": underdog hero faces the rich and corrupt villain in a rural setting, confusion arises between lovers and there's lots of singing. True, this formula was nothing new, and by 1947, it was already starting to die in front of the noir-inspired urban melodramas of the 50s; however, there is a certain theme in Magdaleno's screenplay that gives this old story some sparks of interest: the political angle of the oil topic, which carries a subtle anti-capitalism theme. Mexico nationalized oil in 1936, and "Gran Casino" initially seems to follow the official idea that private oil companies were evil. Nevertheless, the movie's final answer is to literally blow away the problem about oil.

Basically working for hire with a strictly commercial goal, a formulaic storyline and two popular stars to work with, director Luis Buñuel crafts his film effortlessly and remains for the most part faithful to the typical structure of the musical melodrama. However, even amidst the constrains of the movie's purely commercial intentions, the surrealist artist found places to express his very own idiosyncrasies. The most famous and noticeable of these little touches is probably the surreal way the Trío Calaveras appears out of nowhere to serve as backup chorus for Jorge Negrete's character in every song (surprising even him). Another would be the way Buñuel toys with the political angle of the story. Taking thinly veiled jabs at capitalism and even Nazism; Buñuel seems to make oil and politics ultimately unimportant for our very human characters, in an apparent preference for anarchism. There is also a complete rejection to sentimentalism, so passionate kisses are avoided, resulting in a film that plays like a melodrama, but at the same time is also the antithesis of melodrama.

As written above, "Gran Casino" was conceived specially to feature the talents of stars Jorge Negrete and Libertad Lamarque. Both respected singers and actors, their performances in the film result effective and appropriate. Nothing spectacular, but both get the job done without problem. As Buñuel himself stated later, the idea was to get them to sing and sing a lot, so their talents are exploited to full effect in several musical numbers that showcase their quality. Unfortunately, they never sing a duet in the film (strange, being this a musical with romance), although this may be part of Buñuel's choice to avoid sentimentalism. The rest of the cast is for the most part good, with Meche Barba standing out as the sultry femme fatal of the Casino. She truly gives her role a strong presence that certainly, leaves a lasting impression (considering how limited her character is, that's quite an accomplishment). Also worth of notice is the comic timing of Fernande Albany as the perpetually drunk French refugee Nanette.

Unfortunately, despite having all the ingredients of classic Mexican musical melodramas, Buñuel's "Gran Casino" fails to convince and ends up an unsatisfying experience. And the reason is ultimately that yes, it has everything it should have (beautiful songs, great singing, good performances, Jack Draper's ace cinematography, bits of suspense, action and comedy... well, everything), but it never goes beyond its own unoriginal commonness. True, Buñuel's touches are scattered through the film, but only as brief occurrences, as if cowardice or boredom (probably the latter) prevented him of going any further with it, leaving the feeling of an effective yet ultimately uninspired piece of work. By 1947, musical melodramas in rural settings (the "Comedia Ranchera") were old news, and Mexican audiences' preference was verging towards urban settings in dramas, noir thrillers and even comedies. Also, it's worth to point out that while their performances are really good, both Negrete and Lamarque look a tad too old for their roles, something specially noticeable in Lamarque's case.

Given its place in Buñuel's career as a completely mainstream commercial film between his early surrealist works and the success of "Los Olvidados", it's easy to dismiss it as a mistake in the master's filmography (the fact that it flopped at the box office does not help). Nevertheless, there are good things to appreciate in "Gran Casino", particularly the singing of both Negrete and Lamarque, and Jack Draper's work of cinematography. Granted, that may not be enough, but it's something. Personally, I think that amongst its flaws, the worst thing that "Gran Casino" has against it is the reputation of Buñuel himself, which makes the unoriginality of this little musical to feel a worse crime than what it is. In the end, "Gran Casino" is by no means a bad movie, just a quite average one. But it was only the beginning of Buñuel's career in Mexico.

6/10
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The Big Sleep (1946)

Considered as a classic example of the film noir genre of filmmaking, Howard Hawks' "The Big Sleep" is famous not only for the complexity of its convoluted plot, but also for the high quality of its dialogs (and its rapid fire delivery) as well as the legendary coupling of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Oddly enough, the movie's most famous traits were not in the film's original version, and became the result of a series of changes and additions Hawks did to the film after the main shooting ended. The original version had less romance, and a better explained plot; it was only after the success of the two stars as a couple that it was decided to add more scenes between them, and the final version of "The Big Sleep" as we know it was born. Time proved that the changes were worthy, as now that both versions are available it is easy to pick a favorite. This review of "The Big Sleep" is based on the 1946 final version, as it's hard not to prefer the explosive pairing of Bogie and Bacall over the less convoluted original (but definitely less fun) cut.

In "The Big Sleep", private detective Philip Marlowe (Bogart) makes a visit to Gen. Sternwood (Charles Waldron), an old handicapped man who has a case for him. Sternwood tells Marlowe that he wants him to take care of the gambling debts of her younger daughter Carmen (Martha Vickers), as she is being blackmailed by a bookseller named Geiger (an uncredited Theodore Von Eltz). Marlowe takes the job, but before leaving he is confronted by Sternwood's other daughter, Vivian (Lauren Bacall), who wants Marlowe to find out what happened to their former employee (and her father's friend) Sean Regan, who simply disappeared under mysterious circumstances a month earlier. Marlow finds Geiger and follows him home, but the plot thickens when he finds Geiger dead in his home, killed by a mysterious man and Carmen in the crime scene out of her mind while high on drugs. A hidden camera with an empty cartridge is in the crime scene and soon Marlow will discover that Geiger's death is only the tip of the iceberg. And it all seemed like a simple blackmail case.

Based on Raymond Chandler's influential novel of the same name, "The Big Sleep" is definitely one wild ride to a dark world filled with gangsters, femme fatals, pornographers and drug addicts; in simple words, the epitome of the Film Noir kind of stories with the character of Philip Marlow achieving his status as one of the genre's biggest icon. The script (by the excellent team of William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett and Jules Furthman) follows closely the novel's story, but of course, with some additions, most of them being the exchanges of dialogs between Bogart and Bacall, added in an attempt to further exploit the couple's popularity with the audience. It is in this series of dialogs where the true magic of "The Big Sleep" is, as with the focus turned to the relationship between the couple, it becomes more enjoyable to navigate through the complex ambiguity of the plot. Now, this is not to say that the plot is boring, on the contrary, the delightfully perverse darkness of the complex plot in "The Big Sleep" is a top notch example of the dark worlds of film noir.

As usual, Howard Hawks' direction is direct, natural and straightforward, with the dialogs having major importance. Hawks lets the dialogs flow and drive the movie, while at the same time remaining true to the Noir style of its hard boiled source novel. It is easy to notice that Hawks considered the characters to be more important than his story, as the film focuses entirely on their actions instead of the results of those actions. It is this style what makes the film work, as he makes sure that the many supporting characters of the film receive a moment to shine in scenes of great emotion and juicy lines of dialog. However, Noir is also, a very visual style, and in this aspect Hawks doe snot disappoint, making "The Big Sleep" virtually a textbook of how to make a movie in the Noir style; with the excellent cinematography by Sidney Hickox being a major highlight of the movie, and the subtle yet appropriate score by Max Steiner creating the proper atmosphere of decadence that runs through the film as Marlowe gets deeper and deeper inside this dark world.

Being that the screenplay makes the characters the main focus, the performances by the cast are essential for the film. Bogart's portrayal of Raymond Chandler's best-known character, Phillip Marlowe, easily ranks as one of the greatest icons of the Film Noir genre, in a legendary performance only equaled by Lauren Bacall's Vivan Sternwood. Bacall's Vivian may not look as strong as other "Hawksian women" at first sight, but Bacall makes her a vivid force of nature. Bogie and Bacall's chemistry on screen was explosive, and Hawks knew exactly how to use it for his benefit. "The Big Sleep" is certainly one of the best (if not THE best) film with the legendary couple. As many have pointed out, Martha Vickers is a highlight of the film, stealing every scene she is in with her delightful portrayal of the wild spoiled brat Carmen Sternwood. A remarkable group of actors make the supporting roles of the film to come alive, each one of them adding their talents to the movie with excellent results. Dorothy Malone and Elisha Cook Jr. stand out among the rest by stealing the small scenes they appear.

The overtly complex plot may be considered by many as a flaw of the movie, specially as it is quite hard to follow at first and may even give the feeling of running through a constant series of plot holes. However, this ambiguous way of unfolding the story is just another device Hawks uses to keep the story character driven. It may seem at first that Hawks doesn't care too much for the plot, but this overtly complex puzzle reflects what Marlowe himself is experiencing, and in many ways makes the audience to identify with the detective and his work trying to solve the mystery of who is blackmailing who. In the end, what Hawks seems to go after is in building a relationship between Marlowe and the audience, with his case and his relation to Vivian getting more and more complicated each time. So, it is not the actual case what matters, but its effects in the characters. True, it is certainly difficult to follow the plot at first, but the way Faulkner and company have written the script certainly makes up for this difficulty.

Probably "The Big Sleep" may not be everybody's cup of tea, with its ambiguous story, dark cynical tone and overall bleak view on the world; however, I personally think that anyone interested in the history of cinema should give it a try. Granted, it's not an easy view, but it's a quite rewarding one. There's a certain magic in the Bogart-Bacall pairing that's captivating even to these days, and the whole visual style, classy and obscure, just oozes unadulterated noir. It also showcases some of the best performances by Bogie and Bacall ever and shows director Howard Hawks, that famous Jack-of-all-trades of Hollywood, proving his talent and versatility in the Film Noir genre. It certainly would be advisable to check the original cut as well, if only to get a different take on the film as a whole. Filled with unforgettable characters, "The Big Sleep" is one of those films that truly have earned a place amongst those movies one can simply label as: A real classic.

9/10
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Le président en promenade (1896)

In 1895, the debut of the Lumières' Cinématographe truly marked the beginning of a new era of entertainment, and the birth of a new art form. Edison's Kinetoscope was already well known, so the idea of motion pictures wasn't really new; however, the major difference between the Kinetoscope and the the Cinématographe was that the former was an individual experience and the latter a collective one. Their first movies consisted mainly of images from everyday life in movies named "actuality films", which depicted life as it is and technically were the precursors of modern documentaries. Soon the demand for more movies for the Cinématographe grew, and the brothers began to train camera operators to send all over the world, in order to produce more actuality films with scenes from across the globe (and of course, to take their invention to other markets). Mexico, under the rule of president Porfirio Díaz, was one of the first countries to welcome the Lumières' new creation, and cinematographer Gabriel Antoine Veyre was the man in charge of taking cinema to the Mexican lands in 1896.

"Le président en promenade" (better known by its Spanish title "El presidente de la republica paseando a caballo en el bosque de Chapultepec" or "The president riding his horse in Chapultepec forest") was one of the first amongst Veyre's shorts made specifically about president Díaz. It showcases the president riding his horse through Chapultepec (a still popular walk in Meixco's capital) and arriving to a place where he meets a soldier. They exchange words and then the president seems to wait something. Later, Díaz returns from where he came followed by the group that was apparently waiting for him. Several other citizens are seen walking through Chapultepec forest in an otherwise normal day in the city. Díaz seems to really understand the impact that cinema could have in the audiences so, aware that this film was to be seen across the globe, Díaz rides his horse in front of the camera, in an imposing and knightly stance with the dignity of a great ruler. Like most of the Lumières'actuality films, Veyre's had this done in one single take without moving the camera.

President Porfirio Díaz had been ruling Mexico since 1876, in what effectively was a dictatorship, nowadays known as the Porfiriato. Those were years of a totalitarian control of power, suppression of opposing media, and several other injustices; however, those were also years of great progress and economic development for the country. This progress was a direct result of Díaz' desire of bringing modernity to Mexico and his openness to industrial and technological inventions. Naturally, cinema attracted him so, his government welcomed Gabriel Veyre and the Cinématographe with open arms. During his visit, Veyre captured many scenes of Mexican life, staged what could probably the first Mexican fiction movie ("Un duelo a pistola en el bosque de Chapultepec", or "A duel with pistols at Chapultepec forest") and followed president Díaz in his everyday life. Díaz seems to have enjoyed this films so much, clearly understanding the value of cinema in public relations, so there are many scenes of Díaz walking, riding, working, essentially making the president the very first star of Mexican cinema.

Like many other countries, Mexico fell under the spell of the Cinématographe, and Veyre's visit captured the imagination of many businessmen and artists in the country. Cinema, like many other inventions, was welcomed and supported by the government and soon, the public's demand was greater than the offer. This resulted in the birth of Mexican cinema, with the distributors being forced to make their own material when the French one proved to not be enough. Mexican Reolution of 1910 put an end to Díaz' government and borough greater changes to the country. Certainly, Díaz' regime had many problems and shortcomings; however, while the dictator and his regime may not had been the best for most Mexicans, credit goes to Díaz for having helped in the birth of Mexican cinema, and for being Mexico's first movie star.

8/10

Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan (1933)

Spanish filmmaker Luis Buñuel, considered now a master of cinema and one of the greatest artists of surrealism, had quite a troubled career during his first 10 years as a director. Having worked closely with Jean Epstein as assistant director, Buñel debuted in 1929 with the short film "Un chien andalou" ("An Andalusian Dog"). The innovative, surreal short film (written by Buñuel and painter Salvado Dalí) faced great controversy on its release, but that was nothing compared to Buñuel's follow up: "L'Âge d'Or". Funded with the aid of French nobleman Vicomte Charles de Noailles and released in 1930, "L'Âge d'Or" ("The Golden Age") was a fierce and merciless attack to social conventions and the Catholic Church under the guise of an experimental comedy. Not surprisingly, the response against it was even larger, to the point that the Police of Paris effectively banned the film. After this controversy, Buñuel returned to Spain, where anarchist Ramón Acín decided to fund Buñuel's next project. This project turned out to be 1933's "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan".

"Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan" (known in English as "Land without Bread") is basically an exploration of the region of Las Hurdes, in Extremadura, Spain. The short documentary depicts the life in this high mountain region, as the crew moves from town to town, showcasing the difficulties the inhabitants face in this hostile region, which get worse due to the state of misery in which they live. Poverty, hunger and disease haunt the villagers, and their only way they have to face those demons are their own set of superstitious beliefs (which sometimes turn up to be remedies of even worse consequences). Buñuel's travelogue moves from one bleak image to another, covering the way the inhabitants of Las Hurdes live, die, work and try to find some solace amidst the darkness. Education, farming and health care in Las Hurdes is showcased as deficient, as the film is actually a harsh attack to the government's policies. While originally a silent film, a narration in French by Abel Jacquin was added afterwards, that describes the events depicted in a very grim and detailed manner.

Given Buñuel's reputation as a master of surrealism and creator of oniric images, the idea of a documentary crafted by him sounds a bit strange; however, in "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan", realism and surrealism collide and result in a powerful hybrid vehicle to deliver Buñuel's message. Written by Buñuel along Rafael Sánchez Ventura and Pierre Unik (who were assistant directors), "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan" was inspired by Maurice Legendre's study of the region's inhabitants. This very real ethnographic work served as basis to the surreal vision of misery that is "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan". A bleak world so real that ultimately feels unreal, enhanced by Buñuel's eye becomes surreal. Surrealism in "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan" exists, and is present not to create fantasy, but to accentuate reality. To exaggerate it, to mercilessly use the documentary format to make a point because, "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan" is anything but objective. Already a true master of visual symbolism, Buñuel uses images the way Soviet filmmakers used montage.

Of course, there is a certain degree of truth in the film, people of Las Hurdes in those years did live in extreme conditions and poverty and disease were the norm; however, Buñuel carefully has selected (or even created) the appropriate images and the necessary words to bring out the emotions in his audience, to transmit that bleak atmosphere of Las Hurdes and, most importantly, to deliver profoundly his arguments. And those arguments are quite harsh: that the people of Las Hurdes are primitive ignorants prone to superstitions and inbreeding (an stereotype as old as Lope de Vega), and that the government does nothing to improve their condition. Pretty strong accusations in the middle of the political turmoil that was prevalent in Spain during the 30s (Civil War would soon begin in 1936). And the way Buñuel delivers it is quite powerful: Eli Lotar's cinematography captures the misery of Las Hurdes with real documentarian eye, and it is Buñuel's editing and narrative what makes those images transcend reality.

The bold decision of making "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan" was not without its consequences: the film was banned in Spain since its release until Spanish Civil War began. Ramón Acín, the producer, was killed by fascists in 1936 because of his anarchist activities. Buñuel, like many Spaniard artists and intellectuals of his time, decided to move to America, escaping from the fascist regime of Francisco Franco. Buñuel would not direct a film until 1947. After a brief season in the U.S., Buñuel traveled to Mexico, and it would be in Mexico where Buñuel's talent would bloom again. Visually strong, and highly inventive, "Las Hurdes: Tierra sin pan" is a documentary film ahead of its time, and a movie that shows the growing talent of Luis Buñuel.

8/10

L'Âge d'Or (1930)

In the mid 20s, a young and enthusiast Luis Buñuel was decided to get involved in the French film industry after having been fascinated by the works by Fritz Lang. This determination took him to get a job as a production assistant in Jean Epstein's 1926 film, "Mauprat". Buñuel's dedication soon made him assistant director in later works by Epstein and Mario Naplas, where he would learn the basics of the craft. Finally, Buñuel would debut as a director in 1929 with a 16-minute short film titled "Un chien andalou" (literally, "An Andalusian Dog"). Written by painter Salvador Dalí and Buñuel himself, "Un chien andalou" was an experimental film that followed a surreal storyline composed of a series of allegoric (and often nightmarish) scenes based on dreams that Dalí and Buñuel had written. The innovative short film was a success amongst the French artistic community, and increased interest in the Spaniard filmmaker. French nobleman Vicomte Charles de Noailles and his wife, Marie-Laure de Noailles, decided to produce Buñuel's first feature-length film: "L'Âge d'Or".

Known in English as "The Golden Age", "L'Âge d'Or" opens with images that seem like a fragment from a documentary about scorpions, detailing their nature and habits, making emphasis in their lack of tolerance to others and their poisonous sting. Then the "main storyline" begins properly, which presents the efforts of a man and a woman to love each other despite the forces that conspire against them, namely society, authority and religious organizations. This story unfolds through a series of vignettes tied together without any apparent structure; however, these vignettes in fact represent Buñuel and Dalí's own subversive ideas about society, put together in accordance to the surrealist principles they were familiar, pretty much in a similar way to their previous effort, "Un chien andalou". Nevertheless, while "Un chien andalou" works as a nightmare (or better said, a vision) come to life; "L'Âge d'Or", works more like a graphic representation of the train of thought that these two artists had at the time. Is it a revolution or a joke? Perhaps, "L'Âge d'Or" tried to be a bit of both.

Written by director Luis Buñuel and painter Salvador Dalí (though Buñuel argues that Dalí's collaboration was minimal), the vignettes of "L'Âge d'Or" contain a darkly perverse brand of humor, employing an apparently light-hearted comedy to deliver its sharp, merciless attacks. Nothing escapes from Buñuel's sting, from the Catholic Church to the militia, the happily ignorants and the arrogant intellectuals, the civil authority, the government and of course, at the top of all, the bourgeoisie society. The message being, apparently, that love can't reach its full potential because it suffers under the oppressive moral of society, which represses sexuality while at the same time breeds and propagates vices of worse nature. Violence and its absurdity is also tackled by Buñuel, as violence seem to be the only available escape for the otherwise repressed passions. Violence that goes from the abuse of a little dog to the cold blooded murder of a child. Of course, all this is handled with the same light-hearted tone that Buñuel uses through the film, accentuating its absurdity.

In this his first feature length film, Buñuel certainly showcases his domain of cinema as an artistic expression. "L'Âge d'Or" is a film that oozes symbolism, and practically every vignette was carefully planned to convey a certain, very specific message. Still, while even at this early stage Buñuel's mastery of cinema as a language is out of the question, at the time when "L'Âge d'Or" was made Buñuel was still learning the technique, and it shows in several parts. The disjointed, surreal narrative, while powerful and effective in "Un chien andalou", feels broken and incomplete in "L'Âge d'Or". Buñuel's editing is still abrupt and forced, and some vignettes would benefit of an easier transition (granted, "L'Âge d'Or" was not meant to be a film easy to digest). Albert Duverger's work of cinematography is truly exquisite in certain scenes (the famous scene of the religious statue for example), but there are points in which it feels surprisingly amateurish. Certainly, Buñuel's eye was still developing his very own style, but as a whole, it feels a work a tad amateurish at first glance.

Acting through "L'Âge d'Or" is for the most part effective, considering the goals of the film, as it should be noted that given the nature of the film, the performances tend to be hammy, overacting every emotion and expression. It's after all, a parody of self-righteousness, and a film done in the style of silent cinema. As one of the two protagonists, Lya Lys plays the young girl (the characters lack names), and she basically portrays an archetype of femininity (feminity as understood by Buñuel of course). The young girl is fragile and elegant, yet at the same time full of passion. Gaston Modot, delivering a truly remarkable performance, plays her counterpart, the equally unnamed man (as if was to represent all men). Modot's character is also filled with passion, but as the authorities oppress him, his passion finds an outlet in violence, and begins his struggle to satisfy his love (or is it lust? Both are equally important in "L'Âge d'Or" as purer expressions of humanity). The rest of the cast is effective, for the most part, though nothing particularly surprising.

Certainly, "L'Âge d'Or" is quite an ambitious film, with its cruel yet humorous attacks to social order and its complex symbolism; nevertheless, I personally found it a bit too full of itself for its own good. Some of Buñuel's targets are pretty obvious and, since the attacks are anything but subtle, the film can feel less witty and more childish than what was expected. Of course, the disjointed narrative also becomes a bit of a problem as the movie, being of a higher complexity and longer runtime than "Un chien andalou", tends to lose its point at several parts, and some vignettes do feel forced within the narrative. It's clear that Buñuel had in mind something big with the making of this project but, it seems that it was a project still too big for his creative mind at that moment. Granted, "L'Âge d'Or" was designed to be more symbolic than explicit, more an experience than an entertainment, and definitely more emotional than rational; but the overall experience is one of an unfulfilled mission.

Of course, Luis Buñuel would tackle surrealism later in his career, with the crowing pieces of his surrealist oeuvre being his 70s films, "Le charme discret de la bourgeoisie" ("The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie") and "Le Fantôme de la liberté" ("The Phantom of Liberty"), which would earn him the title of master of surrealism. While probably not entirely satisfying, "L'Âge d'Or" was a clear signal of the interests of the young Buñuel and, despite its many flaws, shows that even at this early stage of his career the vision of Buñuel was already developed (His technique would improve and blossom later, during his exile in Mexico). "L'Âge d'Or" or "The Golden Age", is a difficult film to watch (personally, it wouldn't be my first choice for an afternoon), but truly a key one that has to be experienced to discover the origins of Luis Buñuel and the core of surrealist cinema.

7/10
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Watch "L'Âge d'Or" (1930)

W-Cinema's Brief top of 2010

Well, 2010 is over and, while here at W-Cinema things have gone from erratic to barely alive, it's still time to make the classic post about what was good (for W-cinema's standards) in the year. As with every list, you may agree with it, you may disagree with it, or you may perhaps send a good anthrax-filled letter to our door for not giving enough praise to González Iñárritu; all I can say is that this list reflects only the few 2010 releases I managed to see through the year, and that it also reflects W-cinema's taste in films. As expected, the list follows our somewhat established belief in genres and auteurism, including nice incursions in science fiction, heist films, fantasy, a meditation on superheroes and two nice case studies on the classic way of making a thriller. Two (ok, three) of W-cinema's all-time favourite directors do appear in it, two Mexican directors make the cut, and one Portuguese film made by the oldest living director. I know it's nothing but a small glimpse of what 2010 had to offer, but what the hell, here's W-Cinema's Top 10 of 2010 (and some certain honorific mentions).

10) O Estranho Caso de Angélica (2010, Manoel de Oliveira)

After 79 years of active career, Portuguese filmmaker Manoel de Oliveira has seen a lot of the world, and that includes, a lot of cinema. In "O Estranho Caso de Angélica", known in English as "The Strange Case of Angelica", Manoel de Oliveira tells a simple fantasy of a man in love with a ghost, but behind the romance theme, it's also the tale a man in love with the past. And while the film takes place in modern times, Oliveira's style is also in love with the past. Perhaps, in love with his past. Classy and restrained, "The Strange Case of Angelica" feels like a window to a style that, like Angelica, can not remain dead but is in fact, very alive.

9) Kick-Ass (2010, Matthew Vaughn)
Comic book artists Mark Millar and John Romita, Jr. hooked up with scriptwriters Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman, and conceived the story of a teenager who becomes a superhero out of his love for comic books and a comics-influenced sense of justice. The result was a comic book published by Marvel, and an independently financed film directed by Matthew Vaughn. Flashy and hip, "Kick-Ass" looks like another cheap superhero parody, but it's actually a nice, fun analysis to the themes of idealism and the masked vigilante. Classic comic book concepts and motifs are viewed with a darkly humorous eye (and a taste for good gratuitous violence) that may put off someone expecting a David Zucker parody.

8) El Infierno (2010, Luis Estrada)
In Mexico, the open war against the drug cartels that the government has started has taken the violence to the civilians; and while the results of the Mexican Drug War are still to be seen (and we won't get into politics), the open acts of violence has turned towns and cities into branches of hell. Or that's what filmmaker Luis Estrada states in "El Infierno" (literally, "The Hell). Telling the story of a naive man whom gets deeply involved with the drug cartel that rules his town, only to discover the crude hell behind all the riches and fortunes; Luis Estrada brings back the raw aesthetics of the classic Mexican low budget action films with Mario Almada (who even has a cameo) and adds his brand of acid, satirical humor to make harsh criticism of the drug culture, the Mexican government, and everything in-between.

7) Biutiful (2010, Alejandro González Iñárritu)
Mexico again, but this time only via its director, Alejandro González Iñárritu, as "Biutiful" locates us in Spain, specifically in Barcelona, where Javier Bardem offers a tour de force in terms of acting as the film's tragic hero, Uxbal, a man who knows he is going to die. Living in poor conditions, working in the underworld and with a terminal illness over him, Uxbal begins to walk his last road, looking for redemption and attempting to ensure a slightly better future for the family he'll leave behind: his two kids. While I wouldn't call it a masterpiece, it is truly a great achievement, and also, probably González Iñárritu's most human film.


6) Hereafter (2010, Clint Eastwood)
Death and what comes after is what director Clint Eastwood explores in his 2010 film, "Hereafter", narrating three stories of people touched by death in some way, the legendary filmmaker makes a warm, subtle and classy meditation on the after life. A French reporter with a near-death experience, a real psychic who considers his gift as a curse, and a young boy desperately trying to find a message from the dead, all collide with an elegance that brings back memories from an older style of crafting drama films. And Eastwood opens his film with a quite powerful scene.


5) The Ghost Writer (2010, Roman Polanski)
Like Eastwood, Roman Polanski is a favourite here at W-Cinema, and fortunately, Polanski's adaptation of Robert Harris' novel of the same name, is quite a thrilling ride. Ewan McGregor and a terrific Pierce Brosnan star in this story of politics, lies and books; in which Polanksi once again demonstrates a talent for creating interesting tales of conspiracy. Sure, "The Ghost Writer" is far from being a reinvention of the political thriller genre, but the classy way the mystery unfolds makes this a truly enjoyable experience. Slow and subtle, the film begins with a certain tranquility that only begins the construction of a strong sense of urgency and paranoia in a way that Polanski knows very well.

4) The Social Network (2010, David Fincher)
Showcasing a great talent as a storyteller, David Fincher tackles on the story about the early years of Facebook. While it may or may not be an entirely accurate description of Mark Zuckerberg's life, it is an extremely well crafted story that manages to capture the essence of a generation. Fincher makes captivating this tale of young entrepreneurs breaking the rules and then breaking themselves. In the end, seeing it as an artistic expression, I guess it doesn't matter if it's a sensationalizing or not (although who knows how the real Mark Zuckerberg must have felt), it is a great story, told masterfully with great care and powerful talent.

3) Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010, Edgar Wright)
Talking about films that capture the spirit of a generation, Edgar Wright's "Scott Pilgrim vs. the World" takes pop culture by the horns and fully captures the aesthetics of video games better than any video game movie. Based on the comic books (ok, graphic novels) series by Bryan Lee O'Malley, "Scott Pilgrim vs. the World" is a surreal fantasy where indie rock, martial arts and 8-bits video games collide in a pastiche that's not only a flashy spectacle beautiful to look at, but also a fine example of a fun yet thought-provoking coming of age film. Along "Shaun of the Dead" and "Hot Fuzz", this movie consolidates Wright as a master storyteller for this generation.

2) Shutter Island (2010, Martin Scorsese)
Haunting, dark and atmospheric, Martin Scorsese's adaptation of "Shutter Island" feels like a throwback to the days of Val Lewton's somber horror-noirs of the 40s. In a mystery involving memories, paranoia and insanity, Martin Scorsese doesn't attempt to reinvent the genre, just toys with its elements building a thriller in the most classic sense. Now, this doesn't mean that Scorsese plays it safe, it's more a conscious recreation of a style of filmmaking that, while probably out of fashion now, still works effectively. Slow in its pace, and ominous in its atmosphere, "Shutter Island" is a thriller that goes back to the roots in gothic horror and Film Noir's emphasis in suspense; delivering a haunting tale of madness with a classy touch.

1) Inception (2010, Christopher Nolan)
Amongst the most recent breed of filmmakers, Christopher Nolan stands out as a director being able of churning out big Hollywood productions without losing his very own trademark style (in the same lines, only Del Toro and Fincher come to mind). After reinvigorating the "Batman" franchise, Nolan earned the chance of making his own film and the result is "Inception". A heist film for the 21st century, "Inception" shows Leonardo DiCaprio gathering a team of specialists to make a heist inside a man's mind. The mission? To enter the subconscious mind of a dreaming state, to implant an idea, and return alive to tell the tale. With this concept in mind, Nolan plays the rules of heist films, bending them to his will, resulting in a quite entertaining and though-provoking thriller. It's certainly not without its flaws, but certainly, "Inception" ended up being the most interesting film of the year.

And now, some honorific mentions:
- Piranha (2010, Alexandre Aja)
With great knowledge of the genre he loves, Alexandre Aja unleashes a powerful non-stop roller-coaster of nudity, blood and gore in a glorious old school style. Almost as if it had been made in the late 70s or early 80s.
- TRON: Legacy (2010, Joseph Kosinski)
While showing a good deal of respect to the original film, Kosinski's sequel fails to reach full circle and leaves one with the desire of revisiting the original. Still, it's quite a ride and the music (by Daft Punk) is perfect.
- La Pantera Negra (2010, Iyari Wertta)
Inventive, quirky, and fun (despite having a severely disjointed storyline), this walking tribute to film noir, Bergman and Mexican wrestling films shows a promising future for director Iyari Wertta.

Well, that would be all for 2010 (so far), at least, what W-Cinema could watch through the year (as always, I won't be able of watching some important releases, such as Aronofsky's "Black Swan", for a while). We'll see what does 2011 will have to offer, certain films do call my attention, like "Cowboys and Aliens", and I must admit to have a certain interest in Aronofsky's take on the "X-Men" films (as the last couple have not been entirely of my liking). As usual, the same annual promise of writing more in this place and bring back a constant flux of ideas. Until then, good night, and good luck!

House of Usher (1960)

The wonderful reference book Horror 101: The A-List of Horror Films and Monster Movies, edited by Aaron Christensen, contains an essay on "House of Usher" written by yours truly, going in further detail about the film, its making, and my personal experience in discovering this wonderful masterpiece of Gothic horror. Be sure to check it out!
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By the end of the decade of the 50s, producer and director Roger Corman had been enjoying a relatively successful career with his many low-budget horror films that filled the drive-ins of the time with memorable titles such as "It Conquered the World" (1956), "Attack of the Crab Monsters " (1957) or "The Wasp Woman" (1959). While not always memorable, his work was effective, cheap and most of the times very entertaining, earning him a ; however, Corman decided that it was time for a change. Instead of making two low-budget black and white films, he decided to make one color feature film with better production values. The result of this risky bet ended up being one of his most successful films and probably among the best horror films ever done: the fantastic adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's Gothic novel "The Fall of the House of Usher". Titled simply as "House of Usher", this film would begin a series of movies based on Edgar Allan Poe stories, most of them starring legendary actor Vincent Price in roles that would make him a horror icon.

"House of Usher" film tells the story of Philip Winthrop (Mark Damon), a young man from Boston who arrives to the desolate Usher mansion looking for his fiancée Madeline Usher (Myrna Fahey), as she left him in Boston shortly after being affianced with him. Looking for answers, he discovers that both Madeline and her brother Roderick (Vincent Price) seem to be affected by a mysterious malady. While she has become catatonic, Roderick has developed an extreme sensitivity in his audition, making noise extremely painful to him. Roderick explains that this is only the beginning of the ancient Curse of the Usher family, that states that every member of the family will spread evil and suffer from insanity until death. It is because of this belief that Roderick forbids the marriage between Madeline and Philip, as he has decided to end the Usher bloodline and curse once and for all. Philip doesn't believe in Rodericks' words, but in the murky swamps that surround the House of Usher, he'll discover that behind every legend there is a little bit of truth.

Written by Richard Matheson (whom also penned the classic horror novel "I Am legend"), the film does a great work at mixing several of the most representative elements from Poe's short stories in order to create an entertaining and frightening film. While not a strictly faithful adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's short story, Matheson captures in his screenplay the main Gothic themes of the Poe's writing. The added angle of romance does not undermine the horror atmosphere of dread that the film has, and actually suits well the Gothic tragedy of the Usher clan despite being a tad simplistic. While it could be argued that moving the focus from Roderick to Madeline could betray Poe's intentions, Matheson keeps Roderick an interesting figure on his own right, and not simply a horror villain. Since the plot revolves around the characters, Matheson spends enough time to develop each one of them, slowly setting the stage for the terrific finale where they'll face each other in a superb climax. Although the story takes its time to unfold, the slow pace is rightfully justified by its very rewarding ending.

When one thinks of Roger Corman, its inevitable to think about the many low-budget films of average quality he has done through his long career; however, 5 seconds into the film and one begins to wonder if they are really the same person. This film is so beautifully shot and so carefully crafted that it really shows how much Corman cared for this particular project. While still with a budget considerably lower than the big studios' productions, Corman shows that he actually knows more about the filmmaking craft than just how to save costs, and with real artistry creates a series of set-pieces that are both haunting and attractive at the same time. Seasoned cinematographer Floyd Crosby creates images of great beauty in brilliant widescreen color, making the most out of Daniel Haller's lavish sets without sacrificing the Gothic atmosphere of the story. "House of Usher" perfectly captures the melancholy, the fears and the madness of the short story and creates a frightening Gothic tale of horror in film. It was a risky bet indeed, but one that was worth every cent.

After a long career starring in low-budget films or having mere supporting roles in bigger productions, Vincent Price appears at his finest portraying Roderick Usher with tremendous power, chewing the scene with his great presence and charming personality. His overtly dramatic performance fits perfectly in the movie and it made him a horror icon forever. Certainly his performance could be labeled as overacting, but Price adds a lot of personality to the role of Roderick, giving him a mix of classy subtlety and eccentric antics that enhances the atmosphere of abnormality and madness that surrounds the House of Usher. With this, Price makes Roderick our guide to the insanity. While nowhere as great as Price, Mark Damon and Myrna Fahey make very effective co-stars and actually manage to add a lot to the film. Damon is quite good as the lead character, determined and heroic in his tragic quest; and while Fahey's melodrama is a bit over the top (even more than Price), she puts up a fine performance that's up to the challenge.

Despite its low budget, "House of Usher" has an astounding visual design that definitely proves that Corman was more than just a maker of cheap B-movies. Crossing the line that separates the artisan from the artist, Corman crafts a haunting tale of Gothic horror pretty much in the vein that the British company Hammer began to do in the late 50s. However, there are differences between both styles: Corman's take on Poe (perhaps in part because of its source material) has a greater focus on the surreal imagery of madness than on the wild sensuality of the monster (which is one of the key elements that made Hammer horror to stand out). Essentially, while Hammer focus on the monster, Corman's Poe films focus on the atmosphere of horror and dread. if the film has any taint, I think that it would be the fact that even for the standards of its time, the movie is a bit too slow as it takes its time to present the story. Also, it is definitely not a graphic scare fest, so perhaps someone expecting the opposite may find the film a bit dull or boring.

"House of Usher" is a remarkable Gothic film that relays more in its characters, as well as in the atmosphere and suspense rather than in graphic scares and thrills. A key film in the revival of Gothic horror that took place in the late 50s and early 60s, "House of Usher" showcases a brilliant work of cinematography and one of Vincent Price's finest moments. However, I guess that the most important thing about "House of Usher" is not only that it's a beautifully done film, but the fact that it's probably one of the movies where it's more apparent that filmmaker Roger Corman deserves more credit as an artist than what he usually receives.

9/10
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